


"May Day, M'Aidez"

by Adarog (RembrandtsWife)



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Beltane, Holidays, M/M, Paganism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/Adarog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wants to know why Arthur doesn't want to celebrate May Day in the traditional style.  Arthur doesn't want to talk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"May Day, M'Aidez"

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN. Written in one sitting after reading a few segments of [this Kink Me, Merlin! fill](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/11649.html?thread=9076865#t9076865) by [](http://silk-mistress.livejournal.com/profile)[**silk_mistress**](http://silk-mistress.livejournal.com/); I borrowed an important motif from her story and played it for (I hope) comedy, not romance.

  
  
  
  
**Entry tags:**   
|   
[fic](http://adarog.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [frao](http://adarog.livejournal.com/tag/frao), [merlin](http://adarog.livejournal.com/tag/merlin), [merlin/arthur](http://adarog.livejournal.com/tag/merlin%2Farthur), [nc-17](http://adarog.livejournal.com/tag/nc-17)  
  
---|---  
  
"What do you mean, you're not going to the May Day celebrations? I thought you always did."

Arthur coughed and lifted his chin. "In case you hadn't noticed, Merlin, the May Day celebrations are for *peasants*. The sort of people who still think the crops won't grow if they don't dance around a stick decorated with ribbons and flowers."

Instead of looking affronted, as Arthur expected, Merlin chuckled. "Oh, have they got you fooled. I've never met a soul who believed that--it's just what we *peasants* tell the landlord so we can get a day off in fine weather." He opened the window to the morning air and turned to snuff out the candles as golden light streamed in. "Besides, I happen to know Gwen is going, and she's a commoner but not a peasant, and a lot of folks from the town are going and some of the nobles, too."

"Yes, well." Arthur coughed again and changed the subject. "Are you planning to clear off the table, or will you just let the breakfast remains get moldy while you go out frolicking in the woods?"

"Right away, *sire*," Merlin said, and piled the empty dishes and bowls on the tray and trotted off.

Arthur had already changed into clean trews and was pondering which tunic to wear while he was staying in and reviewing the accounts instead of going Maying, and suddenly Merlin popped up again right beside him. His black hair was curling with dampness around his face, and he was actually wearing a clean shirt that looked new--and not wearing one of his ridiculous scarves. His collarbones poked out above a wisp of dark hair.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur sounded a bit ridiculous even to himself.

"I'm supposed to help you dress, *sire*. Although I see you've managed to get your trews on by yourself." Merlin eyed Arthur's legs and related areas rather critically.

"Yes, and I can get the bloody tunic on by myself, too, Merlin. Now run along--it hardly matters what I wear since I'm going to be staying indoors." Arthur pulled out an older brown tunic and checked the sleeves for tears.

"Really, Arthur, you can't just be staying indoors because frolicking in the woods is beneath your station." Merlin was frowning as if in genuine concern. "Everyone is going Maying. Even Gaius is going out to watch the dancing and pick a few herbs." He pulled at the brown tunic as Arthur pulled it over his head and settled it into place. Arthur wanted to shrug off the hands that smoothed the fabric over his arms and tugged it down over his thighs; why was Merlin standing so *close*? And why wouldn't he let an unwelcome topic of conversation go?

"Look, Merlin, I'm the Crown Prince and I have things to do--"

"Is it your father, then? Does he not approve?" Merlin tried to look gravely sympathetic, even though Arthur knew his father the king scared the piss out of Merlin (he was apparently the only thing that did).

"No, my father does not disapprove. I just--" Frustrated, Arthur turned and gave Merlin a little shove, putting some distance between himself and his irritatingly intimate manservant. "Just go, won't you? Go and have fun."

Merlin looked hurt. "Well, all right. I just thought you might like to have a little fun, too."

That tone of voice--the "I was only thinking of you" voice--and the kicked-puppy expression on Merlin's absurdly long and angular face, the twisted lips--they got to Arthur every time. They melted him precisely because they were never calculated; Merlin really did, however inappropriately, think of Arthur as his *friend* more than as his *lord*, and he really sincerely wanted him to have fun. Fun, in this case, meaning roaming through the woods, picking flowers, laughing and scaring away anything huntable, messing about with girls, presumably, and dancing around a stick decorated with ribbons and flowers until you felt sick and had to lie down.

"Merlin." Arthur sat down in his chair and pointed. Merlin obligingly came and stood before him, bright-eyed and attentive.

"Look, Merlin, I don't know if you quite get the point of May Day. You are rather, erm, daft at times, after all, and you don't always get things that seem perfectly obvious to normal people, like the difference between a *prince* and his country-born *manservant*, but you see, people go out in the woods to, erm--"

"It's about fucking," Merlin interjected. He didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed by the word. Arthur, on the other hand, feared he was starting to blush. "I *am* a mere peasant, your lordship. I daresay I knew about men and women and the birds and the bees before you did, thanks to the cows and the chickens and whatnot."

"Er, well, yes. People go out into the woods on May Day to... couple. To fuck," he forced himself to say. "And I can't do that."

Merlin's eyebrows crawled up into his hair, and his eyes widened to the size of the royal dinnerplates. "You *can't*? You're not capable?"

"Yes I am bloody well capable!" Arthur shouted, coming half out of his chair. Anyone else would have been frightened, but this was Merlin, who just cocked his head disapprovingly. "What I mean is... oh, hell." He would just have to spit it out, or Merlin would never give up. "I don't mess around with girls because... I scare them."

Now Merlin looked really baffled. "You scare them? What do you do, shout and bully them like you try to do to me?"

"No! I mean--it's me. It's my-- I'm too big." Merlin still looked stupid. Arthur held up a clenched fist. "It's TOO BIG to get in."

Light dawned. Merlin's mouth formed a comprehending "Oh...." Then he folded his arms. "I don't believe you."

"What?"

"Let me see."

Arthur felt his face heat up, not with embarrassment this time but with boiling rage. Merlin just started laughing. "Oh, come on, Arthur! Don't I see you in your bath? Don't I have to dress and undress you and buckle on your fecking armor? You can stop hiding it from me--yours won't be the first prick I've seen besides my own."

Now *that* was an interesting statement worth further pursuing, but Arthur hung onto his rage long enough to stand up, unlace his trews, and shove them down around his knees.

"Lift up your tunic," was all Merlin said.

Arthur did.

Merlin studied Arthur's bits. "Well, it's not the biggest I've ever seen, but it's pretty impressive. I suppose it *would* scare some girls, if they'd never seen a naked man before."

"NOT THE BIGGEST???"

Merlin completely ignored his prince's outrage and said, reminiscingly, "There was this woodcutter who used to come into Ealdor to sell his wood and for fairs and things. He was *huge*, the tallest man I've ever seen, with great bushy hair and a chest like a barrel. One year he entered a contest for lifting and picked up a two-year-old heifer like she was a little dog, I swear--but he split his trews doing it and everybody just gasped, because his prick was thicker than a man's wrist and he wasn't even, you know, interested--"

"MERLIN!"

Merlin's eyes snapped back to Arthur's face. "You were saying?"

"I don't want to hear about your jolly childhood in Ealdor."

"Right, then." Merlin's eyes dropped to Arthur's prick, and Arthur yanked up his trews again. "So you haven't actually...?"

"Once. Almost." Arthur scowled. "We tried but I couldn't--it wouldn't. And then there were a couple of other girls who wanted to kiss and pet but outright refused when they saw-- So I sort of haven't. Not really." And heaven knows what I'll do when I actually have to get *married* and some poor girl has to.... He didn't want to think about it.

Merlin had dropped into a comfortable crouch. "You know, Arthur, I realize when a man and a woman get together they generally want to, ah, put *it* in, erm, *that*, but you know, there are other things two people can do...."

"Like what?"

Arthur did not expect Merlin's answer to be nonverbal, that is, to be without words entirely, rather than just rambling and off the point or poorly articulated. But Merlin's answer was to dart forward so he was kneeling between Arthur's thighs, and before Arthur could say "What the *hell* are you doing, you idiot?" he negotiated the still-untied laces of Arthur's trews and somehow got Arthur's prick into his mouth.

Arthur's large, impressive, rapidly hardening prick. Into Merlin's soft, full-lipped, warm and very welcoming mouth.

Merlin's lips slid over the head, easing back the foreskin as the organ swelled in response. Arthur groaned softly as Merlin's tongue found a spot just under the head, groaned more loudly as that tongue worked it with wicked skill. One of Merlin's hands landed on Arthur's thigh and stroked it; the other curled around the base of Arthur's prick and chafed it gently. Arthur found his own hands twining into Merlin's hair as Merlin bent his head and sucked a considerable length of Arthur's prick into his mouth.

"Oh, god!"

Merlin withdrew and Arthur stared at him, panting helplessly. Merlin was grinning. "It *is* big. Don't think I can get it all in my mouth--but I can try--"

Merlin licked his lips and bent to the task. Only the hand on his thigh kept Arthur from shoving desperately hard into willing wet heat that swallowed him inch by inch and then *sucked*-- He was rather shocked when he spilled. Merlin, apparently, wasn't, because he swallowed Arthur's seed without the least hesitation and then wiped his mouth on the skirt of Arthur's tunic.

"Why don't we go outside?"

In a green tunic with gold broidery on the hems and a crown of yellow flowers, Prince Arthur of Camelot went a-Maying. While his subjects, nobles, peasants, and townsfolk together, were dancing around the Maypole, he was lying in a bower of ferns somewhere in a dim, cool place in the woods, discovering with his cheeky manservant what could be done with hands and mouths and cocks and thighs, and what it was like to taste his own seed in someone's else's mouth as they kissed, and what it was like to kiss another man and feel drunk with joy.

"I don't think it's too big," Merlin said, much later. He was lying naked on green moss, which gave a strangely alluring bluish tint to his pale skin. "I think you'd just have to be ready for it, physically and mentally."

"I dunno, Merlin." Arthur, too, was naked, but he felt quite comfortably warm. "Perhaps I'll just have to resign myself to getting my pleasure like this." He was too blissed out at the moment to think of what that might mean for marrying and getting heirs.

Merlin rolled closer and peered down into Arthur's face with a grin. "I've heard of a way a man can take another man inside... it just requires a bit of preparation." He wiggled his arse like a mare in heat, and to his chagrin, Arthur felt his prick stir again.

He looped an arm around Merlin's neck. "Let's not wait till next May Day to try it, shall we?" he said, and pulled Merlin down for a kiss.


End file.
